


That's What Friends Are For

by TigerLily



Category: CSI: Miami, NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLily/pseuds/TigerLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you know a veteran, please give him/her a hug, a pat on the back to thank them for their unselfish service to their country.</p>
<p>I gave Eric Scott the Navy Cross for heroism under fire not to belittle the men and women who may have been awarded this medal.</p>
<p>The Navy Cross is the second highest medal awarded by the Navy, Marine Corps and the Coast Guard. More information about it can be found here: http://www.gruntsmilitary.com/navycr.shtml</p>
    </blockquote>





	That's What Friends Are For

**Author's Note:**

> If you know a veteran, please give him/her a hug, a pat on the back to thank them for their unselfish service to their country.
> 
> I gave Eric Scott the Navy Cross for heroism under fire not to belittle the men and women who may have been awarded this medal.
> 
> The Navy Cross is the second highest medal awarded by the Navy, Marine Corps and the Coast Guard. More information about it can be found here: http://www.gruntsmilitary.com/navycr.shtml

Dr. Eric Scott drew in and released his last breath as his body gave up its losing battle with cancer. His hand slipped from his friend’s grasp and landed with a gentle thump on the bed.

The heart monitor sounded its shrill alarm. A young nurse walked in and silenced it.

“Dr. Mallard,” she quietly inquired.

“Give me a moment, Nurse Mitchell,” Dr. Mallard replied.

“Yes, Doctor,” she said before walking out of the room.

Dr. Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard bowed his head and let his tears flow as his grief threatened to cleave his heart in two.

&/&/&

Jethro Gibbs had seen the nurse enter and leave Eric’s room, so he knew that his friend was gone. He left his post in the waiting room and slipped into Eric’s room to comfort his friend and lover.

“Duck?” he whispered.

Ducky looked up and Jethro’s heart clenched in his chest. Only one other time had he seen Ducky this broken up and that was when Ari had killed Caitlin.

Jethro pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wordlessly handed it to Ducky.

Ducky accepted it with a watery smile. “Just give me a few minutes, dearest,” he murmured.

Jethro nodded. He walked to the window and allowed Ducky to compose himself.

&/&/&

“Do you want me to make the call, Duck?” Jethro asked as he drove them home.

“Yes, dearest,” Ducky said, quietly.

Jethro reached out and gave Ducky’s knee a gentle squeeze. “Consider it done.”

Ducky nodded and then rested his aching head against the window not really seeing the passing scenery.

&/&/&

Jethro settled Ducky in the parlor of his well-appointed home with a glass of brandy before excusing himself to the patio. He was glad that Ducky had agreed to Mrs. Patterson looking after his mother for a few days. He didn’t think Ducky could have handled his mother and her dogs as he grieved for his friend.

He perched himself on the chaise lounge. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Ducky would lecture him, but in the past few days he had needed the nicotine.

He shook one from the pack and lit it before making the call.

&/&/&

“Miami-Dade County Crime Lab,” a soft Southern voice answered the phone after the second ring. “How may I direct your call?”

“I would like to speak with Lieutenant Horatio Caine,” Gibbs replied.

“May I say who is calling?”

“Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS.”

“One moment, please.”

Jethro was put on hold and the next voice he heard was a cool baritone. It was a voice that belonged to a person who had spent too many years dealing with the Federal government’s idea of alphabet soup.

“What can I do for you, Special Agent Gibbs?”

&/&/&

Horatio Caine had been walking past Reception when Paula caught his attention.

“Lieutenant, you have a call on line one.”

“Who is it?” he inquired. He was tempted to tell Paula to take a message, but the perplexed expression on her face quickly changed his mind.

“A Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS, sir,” she informed.

“Hmmm….” He murmured. He knew NCIS stood for Naval Criminal Investigation Service, so he ran through his head all open cases. He couldn’t remember one where the Navy or the Marine Corps was involved, but the lab had been a busy place of late.

“Hey, H,” Ryan Wolfe said as he joined Horatio at the Reception desk.

“Mr. Wolfe,” Horatio greeted Ryan, coolly. “Do we have any cases involving Naval or Marine Corps personnel?”

“No,” Ryan replied. “Why?”

Horatio sighed. “Someone must have run something that has alerted NCIS.”

“Oh,” Ryan remarked. He was too tired to be curious. It had been a long day. “By the way, Calleigh was looking for you.”

“Thank you.”

Ryan nodded and walked away.

“Paula, I’ll take that call in my office,” Horatio said before jogging up the stairs to his office.

Paula nodded.

&/&/&

“What can I do for you Special Agent Gibbs?” Horatio asked, getting right to the point.

“Are you alone?” Jethro inquired as he tried to find a way to soften the blow he was about to deliver.

“Yes,” Horatio replied, suddenly suspicious. “Why?”

“You might want to sit down,” Jethro advised. “I’ve got some bad news.”

Horatio had already been sitting down, but now he leaned forward in his chair. “Just tell me.”

“You were informed that your uncle, Eric Scott, had gone missing in April of 1968?”

“Yes.”

“Your uncle passed away this afternoon at Bethesda Naval Hospital,” Jethro delivered the news, bluntly. He hated death notification calls. “I’m sorry.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Horatio growled. Anger was evident in his voice. “I am not amused.”

In the past month, Horatio’s nerves had been stretched beyond the breaking point, so he wasn’t in the mood for a stupid prank phone call. He reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone. He placed a hand over the receiver of his desk phone and briefly outlined to Cooper what he needed.

“No,” Jethro said. “This isn’t a prank.” He heard the anger in Horatio’s voice and knew he only had a small window before Horatio hung up on him. “Eric kept us in the dark about you and your brother until just recently.”

“Us?” Horatio’s curiosity was piqued, thus giving Cooper more time to run his trace.

“Dr. Donald Mallard and I,” Jethro supplied. “Eric was part of an investigation. We found him standing guard over the body of a young Marine in a less than savory part of DC. We thought he was another homeless veteran, so we befriended him.”

“Befriended him?”

Jethro bit back a tired sigh. That question alone told him that Horatio Caine had been cut from the same cloth he had been and would not give up until he had all the answers, so Jethro made himself comfortable and told Horatio everything he wanted to know.

&/&/&

_The Vietnam Memorial_

The black granite shone in the early morning light as Jethro Gibbs strode down the path toward it. He had been there countless times with Ducky, but this time he was there on a mission. He immediately spotted his quarry as the rays of the sun turned the man’s hair a burnished reddish-gold.

Jethro slowed his pace and quieted his breathing. He didn’t want to spook the man, although he didn’t think that was remotely possible.

Horatio Caine was one cool customer.

&/&/&

Horatio Caine laid his hand on the Wall tracing the name of his mother’s brother with his finger tips. His breath appeared as wisps of white in the early morning air. He bowed his head to hide the tears that silently flowed down his cheeks.

_Eric Horatio Scott_

He had been reported by the Department of Defense as MIA in the spring of 1968. He had survived the Tet Offensive only to disappear without a trace two months later.

His disappearance had left Horatio’s mother heartbroken because he had been all the family she had left beside her two small sons. In fact, she had named Horatio after him much to her brother’s chagrin.

Horatio had only met him once. He had been six and Eric was about to ship out for Vietnam. The meeting had been memorable in the fact that Eric had charged Horatio to take good care of his mother and little brother.

At the time, Horatio had taken the commission lightly, but as he grew older he understood what his uncle had been about. Deep inside he knew he had done his best, but inevitably he had failed.

He had failed his mother and his brother, but mainly he had failed himself. All he had left of his family were stone monuments.

He knelt and placed at the base of the Wall his uncle’s dog tags and the MIA bracelet his mother had worn for years in hopes that her brother would eventually return home.

He slowly stood and traced his uncle’s name again. “Good-bye Uncle Eric,” he murmured. “You won’t be forgotten.”

&/&/&

Jethro heard Horatio’s quiet vow. He smiled. Not many people realized what being forgotten did to a veteran, and he was glad that Horatio Caine was not one of those people.

“As long as he lives in your heart, he won’t be,” Jethro remarked.

Horatio turned from his introspection not surprised to find Jethro standing beside him. “Kind of crowded in there,” Horatio replied.

Jethro nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Jethro chuckled. “Stubborn bastard.”

“I may be a redhead, but I don’t have the market cornered on stubbornness,” Horatio countered with a knowing smile.

“Ducky would agree with you,” Jethro said. “Come on, he’s making breakfast, and I for one am starving.”

“An English breakfast sounds like a good idea,” Horatio concurred as his empty stomach made its displeasure known.

&/&/&

Jethro stood on one side of Horatio and Ducky stood on the other side as the remains of Captain Eric Horatio Scott were laid to rest in Arlington. It was a brief service since Horatio had abided by his uncle’s last wishes for a simple ceremony.

Horatio flinched at the sound of the 21-gun salute. It was a painful reminder of what he had lost in the past two months. First, Tim Speedle and now his uncle.

Two men who had left a lasting mark on him.

He felt Ducky give his arm a reassuring squeeze. He was grateful to have the eccentric medical examiner at his side.

Before he knew it, he was being handed the flag that had draped his uncle’s coffin. He numbly accepted it and the thanks of a grateful nation.

&/&/&

Jethro unselfconsciously helped Ducky into the passenger seat of his car while Horatio slipped quietly into the back seat. He watched Horatio carefully place the flag on the seat next to him before leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

Jethro slid into the driver’s seat ready to take his friends anywhere they wanted to go.

_Friends_ ….

Ducky was more than that, and Jethro reached over and gave his lover’s knee a gentle pat. Ducky returned the affectionate gesture.

Horatio had become a friend the instant Jethro had met him. He had looked into Horatio’s cobalt eyes and it felt like he was looking into a mirror, albeit one that leaked pain no matter how hard Horatio tried to hide it.

Those eyes locked with his in the rearview mirror reflecting the need to drown all feeling, if only for a night.

“Where to?” he gently inquired.

&/&/&

Horatio pulled his eyes from Jethro’s. He fumbled in his jacket pocket for his sunglasses and slipped them on.

_Shields up, Keptin_ , he heard in his tired brain and he managed a weak smile.

In an uncharacteristic response, he heard himself say, “Any place where alcohol flows freely.”

He saw Jethro nod.

&/&/&

_The next day…._

Ducky had elected to take Horatio to the airport. He wanted the time to get to know his friend’s nephew a little better.

Eric Scott had been somewhat of an enigma. He had never revealed much of his past except in the last week of his life when he slipped into a delirious state.

He had told Ducky about his desire to see his nephews. He had wanted to see how they had turned out, but was ashamed to do so because of the things he had done in Vietnam in the name of survival. So, he allowed himself to be listed as MIA and kept tabs on his family the best he could.

&/&/&

Ducky walked with Horatio into the airport terminal. He waited while Horatio picked up his ticket and checked in. He mused at how similar Horatio was to his uncle, especially in the economy of movement as Horatio rejoined him outside of security.

“Eric would have been proud of you,” Ducky quietly observed.

Horatio nodded. He was still feeling the effects of the night before’s cleansing session. He was a bit fuzzy as to who passed out first.

Ducky reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, black case. “The day before he went into the hospital Eric made me promise to give this to you. He had wanted to do it himself, but ran out of time.”

“What is it?” Horatio inquired, clearly puzzled. He saw that it was a small, black, nondescript case that could hold a military award, but he thought he had seen all of his uncle’s awards.

Ducky handed Horatio the case and waited for the redhead to open it. Hearing Horatio’s quiet, “Oh!” made everything he and Jethro had gone through to get Eric this particular medal very much worth it. “Eric believed you would understand why he wanted you to have this particular medal.”

“I do,” Horatio said in a hoarse whisper. He stared at the Navy Cross silently wondering what his uncle had done to have been awarded it. “But, I am no hero.”

“Eric said that he thought that would be your response,” Ducky remarked quietly. “He mentioned something about you using yourself as bait to lure out and capture a disgruntled ex-Marine sniper.”

“That wasn’t heroic,” Horatio remarked with a hint of self-derision. “That was necessity.”

“Indeed,” Ducky agreed. If he hadn’t been in love with Jethro Gibbs, Ducky thought he could easily fall for this self-effacing younger man. In many aspects, Horatio was very much like Jethro. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

“So, do I,” Horatio replied. He closed the case and slipped it into his lapel pocket. “Thank you for taking care of him for me.”

“It was the least I could do,” Ducky reassured Horatio. He held out his hand and Horatio grasped in a firm handshake; something else he had in common with his uncle. “Have a safe trip home, and do stay in touch.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Horatio said with a wry grin. “But, I will try.”

&/&/&

Ducky waited until Horatio cleared security before he left the airport and returned to his lover.

The End


End file.
